


Air and Earth

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're watching the stars on a summer night in Texas and Jensen is thinking about running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Air and Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tebtosca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/gifts).



> Written for tebtosca for spnspringfling 2014

Summer nights in Texas are hot. They’re stifling and yet open at the same time; Jensen can see the stars from where he’s laying, but when he closes his eyes, the air feels like it’s pressing him down into ground. Air and earth are supposed to be opposites, but it feels to Jensen like they’re working together, the air pushing him down so that the earth can absorb him. He wonders if the ground under his feet knows, whether it can sense that he’s feeling flighty and transient.

“It’s kind of dizzying, you know.” Jensen turns his head to the side to look at Jared, who’s staring up at the stars while he speaks. “When you just lay here like this, it feels like you can see everything. No building or clouds or trees to block it all out. The sky’s like this big dome and you realize that we’re in this snowglobe and no one’s ever going to break the glass.” Jared says it all in one thought, but it doesn’t feel hurried. He looks over at Jensen and Jensen thinks his eyes are more dizzying than the stars can ever be. “Do you ever feel that way, Jen?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen says, because it’s true. He’s never thought about the sky like that before. Even when the air is pushing him down, the sky remains distant and open. He doesn’t like to think of it being yet another barrier. “And don’t call me Jen,” he adds, only remembering a few seconds late. “You know I hate it.”

Jared smiles at him, close-mouthed and crooked. “I figured you might make an exception. Given the givens.”

A pang goes through Jensen’s chest, but he refuses to feel guilty. He turns his eyes to the heavens once more and imagines the stars raining down around them, shattering the earth and setting it alight. “It’s not about you,” he mutters. “You know that.”

“Sure,” Jared replies flatly. Jensen refuses to look at him. “Not about me at all.” There’s silence for a few seconds, except for the whisper of the warm summer breeze through the desert shrubbery. Then Jared says, “I never thought you’d stay for me, you know. I’d never have asked for that either.”

Jensen clears his throat. An airplane moves across the sky, one blinking light among thousands of steady ones. “I know. I know you wouldn’t.”

“But I kind of always thought…” Jared shifts next to him, scooting over so their hands brush. Jensen resists the urge to jerk back. “I thought you’d wait for me. Take me with you when you got the hell out.” His voice turns plaintive and Jensen can feel those eyes on him. “C’mon, Jensen, please. It’s just a few years…”

Jerkily, Jensen shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says and—giving up—meets Jared’s eyes. “I’ve got a job waiting for me and everything, Jared. If it’s not now… I’m not sure I’d ever be able to get out.”

“Bullshit!” Jared bites out, and he sits up, hugging his knees. His back looks especially broad from where Jensen’s laying. His t-shirt stretches against muscles that are still developing, and Jensen shouldn’t want to touch him so badly. “You _could_ wait. We could hit the road the instant I got my diploma, just drive and drive until we found some place that finally _fit_. It would be _wonderful_ , Jensen, don’t you know? It would be everything we’ve always dreamed of.” Hurt, blue-green eyes glance over at Jensen, and then away. “You just don’t _want_ to,” Jared concludes bitterly.

Jensen looks at those broad shoulders and thinks Jared couldn’t be further from the truth. He thinks about all their naive adolescent plans and fantasies and wishes they could come true. He remembers being eight years old and knowing that he’d never have to go anywhere without Jared. Things changed, but _Jared_ —Jared was a constant. 

Now he can’t be anymore, because those broad shoulders make Jensen wish for _more_. They’d dreamed about a house, two dogs, and a white picket fence, once upon a time. Jensen would have been content with that. But every time, Jared had chirped, “and our wives, of course!” Every time, Jensen had nodded and smiled. Even at eight, he hadn’t been big on the idea.

Nothing feels like it can be contained anymore. The sky is stretching beyond the limits of its glass casing. Jared’s shoulder blades dig into the soft cotton of his shirt. The hard Texas ground can’t hold onto Jensen any longer.

“I _can’t_ ,” Jensen repeats softly, because that’s all he can say. He knows he can’t. It’s not a question of will anymore.

“Jensen,” Jared whispers, and it’s a cry for help. He’d done the same thing when he was six and some bullies were picking on him. He’d wrapped his chubby little fists in Jensen’s shirt and looked up at him with those _eyes_ , all bright and tear-filled. “Jensen,” he’d whispered. That was all he’d ever had to say.

For a second, Jensen imagines it. Imagines staying and working at his Daddy’s business and waiting for Jared. It’d just be three years, after all. He’d be able to go see Jared’s basketball games and help him with his homework. His world would narrow down to that—just Jared, as his vague high school acquaintances drop away and forget about him. Just him and Jared and the business—and, eventually, Jared would come in with his arm around some girl and his smile stupidly bright, and all of Jensen’s vague dreams would crumble away to nothing.

He doesn’t think he can do that.

“I should get back.” His mom’s been crying for the past three days and his dad’s lips have been pinched. They know as well as he does that he won’t be coming back.

It’s weird to think this is the last time he’ll sleep in his room.

Jared doesn’t say anything. He just stares straight ahead, out over the dirt and the shrubs. Jensen sits up and looks with him. His whole body is coiled with anticipation, feet itching to move. The night is clear and he’s not going to see another Texas night for a long time.

“I’ll race you back,” Jensen says, standing up, and it’s an echo of every childhood game they ever played. Jensen’s fast. Jared still hasn’t caught him.

“I’m gonna stay here,” Jared says, still looking just ahead, like it he looks hard enough, the earth will shift before his eyes. 

Jensen gives him another moment and then shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “Okay. I’ll see you then,” he says, and they both flinch because, no, he won’t. Jensen hesitates, because it’s one thing to leave and another to _leave_. “Jared, I—”

“Just go,” Jared tells him. He still won’t look up. “Go, Jensen.”

Jensen’s feet beat against the earth as he runs. The wind whips past him. His hair is blown back, his forehead damp with sweat. Behind him, there’s a boy sitting on the hard Texas dirt who will never catch up. But it’s hard to remember that when his feet are flying across the ground and his heart is thumping like this is the only time he’s really been alive.


End file.
